Ten Years Later
by redcandle
Summary: Catelyn contemplates her relationship with her husband on their tenth wedding anniversary. Ned/Cat.


Today was ten years to the day she and Ned had spoken their vows in Riverrun's sept. Catelyn wondered if he realized it. It had not been a truly happy day; how could it when she was marrying the brother of the man she'd always expected to marry and her sister was marrying an old man she did not want to marry. The wedding feast had been merry enough, though, for guests enjoyed wine and rich food and music no matter what. For Catelyn it had been a day of wondering about the stranger she would soon give herself to.

She still wondered sometimes. He was dutiful and just, but not without mercy and kindness. He made time for the children each day and came to her bed nearly every night, even if only to hold her. But there were things he would not share with her, like the cause of the sadness that came over him sometimes. He would talk about his youth in the Vale as Jon Arryn's ward, but never about what his plans and hopes had been before Mad Aerys changed everything. He would talk endlessly about his friendship with Robert, but never about his relationship with the woman who had borne him his bastard.

"Lady Catelyn."

Catelyn blinked and turned away from the window. She had been so lost in thought that she had not realized she was no longer alone in her bower. Septa Mordane was standing in the entryway with Arya firmly in her grasp. _Again?_ Arya was the most willful of the children, prone to embarking on adventures ill-suited to a highborn girl. People said she reminded them of Lyanna Stark. That frightened Catelyn. She didn't like to think badly of the sister Ned had so loved, but Lyanna had scorned duty and honor, and died young because of it.

"What is it, septa?"

Septa Mordane marched further in the room, her mouth set in a grim line. "Arya struck Jeyne Poole and she refuses to apologize."

Catelyn sighed. "I will speak with my daughter alone."

The septa left the room. Arya stayed where she was, her head down, grinding the toe of her shoe into the floor. Catelyn went to her and gently tipped her chin up to see her face. She looked guilty but defiant. "You know it's wrong to hit people. Why did you strike Jeyne?"

"She said I looked like a horse." She was trying to sound angry, but she was a very little girl and the hurt was obvious. Catelyn smoothed her hair.

"Why do you think Jeyne said that?"

"I don't know. She's stupid."

"What do you think Jeyne will say if I ask her?"

"Well, she might say I said she looked stupid first," Arya said grudgingly. "But she did look stupid! She had on her mother's best gown and she asked how she looked and Sansa told her she looked beautiful even though the gown was much too big for her, so I told her the truth."

"That wasn't nice, was it?"

"It was the truth," Arya said stubbornly.

"We don't always have to tell the truth, Arya, especially about little things. That's what courtesy is. What did it serve to tell Jeyne she looked stupid? It only hurt her feelings."

"She hurt my feelings."

"That was wrong of her. But, Arya, I am quite sure she said what she said only to hurt you as you'd hurt her. And I'm certain Septa Mordane scolded her and had her apologize to you, isn't that so?"

"Yes."

"So now it's your turn to apologize."

"But I'm not sorry."

"Courtesy, Arya," Catelyn reminded her. "You don't have to mean it. Just say the words to keep the peace."

"I suppose I could tell her I'm sorry if I don't have to mean it."

Catelyn kissed her on the forehead. "Good. You go do that."

Alone again Catelyn attempted to study the household ledger, but it was no good. She could not concentrate on how many barrels of wine they needed to order, not today. Ten years. It was such a long time, yet now it seemed that it was only a short while ago she'd arrived at Winterfell. She had imagined taking her place as Winterfell's mistress many times as a young girl, but it had always been Brandon with her in her daydreams. When the day actually came, however, she'd been much too concerned with the comfort of her babe, and much too shocked to discover Jon Snow, to remember her greeting to the castlefolk or sitting beside Ned for that first feast.

_It has been ten good years_. She and Ned had four sweet children, their lands were thriving, and there was peace in the realm. And it was still high summer. _Or what passes for summer here in the North_, Cat thought wryly. It had snowed only days ago, though to the children's disappointment the snow had not been enough to play in. _I should give thanks to the Mother for her blessings_. It had been some time since she'd last visited the sept.

She found her husband exiting the sept he'd had built for her. "Have you experienced a religious epiphany, my lord?" Catelyn teased him. He worshipped the old gods, as all the Starks who came before him had done. She was curious to know what business he'd had here.

"I am still ignorant of your Seven, and Them of me, my lady. I..." He sounded embarrassed as he continued, "I had thought to get new glass windows for the sept as a gift to you, but Septon Chayle says it requires no improvements."

"A gift for me?" Her twenty-eighth name day had passed only three moons ago. He had quite a bit of time before her next name day. _But I suppose it would take quite a bit of time to get colored glass from the East like he'd thought to do._

"We have been husband and wife for ten years," he said quietly. There was a pause as he chose his next words. "I know I have...asked more of you than any other wife would find tolerable, and still you...have been everything a man could want in a wife." He cleared his throat. "I felt I owed you some token of my affection."

_Oh, Ned._ It was hardly the suave declaration of continued loved and devotion that would make maidens swoon, but he was no singer and she was no silly little girl. They were a man and a woman, and they had lived through two wars. Catelyn cupped her husband's face and met his warm, grey eyes. "I need no other gift but you, my love." She gave him a quick, soft kiss, then she took his hand. "Shall we retire to bed, Lord Eddard?"

Ned was scandalized. "Cat, it's barely past noon!"

"I believe you have a gift to give your lady wife?"

He relented. "Aye, I do," he said, and allowed her to lead him to the Great Keep and to their bedchamber therein.


End file.
